


My hero Venom

by JotunVali



Series: The turbulent lives of Venom's followers [1]
Category: Spider-Man (Comicverse), Venom (Comics)
Genre: Blood and Violence, Bullying, Cannibalism, Child Abuse, Decapitation, If you do, Police, Primary School, Spider-man fanboys, Teachers, and the holy Spider, in the name of god, mob of kids, we will force you to think otherwise, you can't loves villains
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-08
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2020-08-13 03:35:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20167480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JotunVali/pseuds/JotunVali
Summary: Everyone hates Dylan Brock. His father Carl hates him most. Because he likes a cannibalistic criminal. Venom. The kids from school, they like Spider-man. Spider-man makes them want to be heroes. And heroes are supposed to beat the shit out of villains, aren't they?





	1. Chapter 1

“Dylan, what’s that gloomy dark figure?” The teacher forced herself to smile as she was trying to guess who or what the blond boy just had sketched on his paper sheet.

“That’s Venom, ma’am.” Dylan beamed.

“V-Venom?” She repeated, puzzled. “I think you’ve mistaken today’s topic, Dylan. Today’s is drawing your favorite hero. You know, Dylan, like Captain America, Iron Man, Miss Marvel-”

“Yes I know!” He cut her off. “Venom is my favorite hero.” 

He didn’t bother to keep his voice down. Which embarrassed the teacher very much. All the kids turned her way. They all stared at Dylan in confusion.

“Venom is not a hero, dummy, he’s a villain!”

“He kills people, and eats them! Heroes don’t do that!”

“Spider-man for example, he’s a cool hero!”

“And Spider-man would smash your stupid Venom!”

“Last week, Spidey gave him a good electric shock in his gooey face!”

“Children please…” The teacher tried to calm them. “Go back to your own drawings, ok?” They obeyed her. “They’re right though Dylan. Venom is not a hero. He’s a criminal. Do you know what a criminal is, Dylan?”

“Sure! It’s a guy who steals, who murders, things like that. And Venom catches and punishes them! Why would a criminal do that?” The child stuck to his idea.

Later, without he knew why, Dylan was summoned at the principal’s office. With his father. That usually never meant good news.

“What did my son do so terrible I had to come all the way here?” Carl Brock grumbled, obviously grumpy today.

_ More than usual. _Dylan thought.

“The problem is, Mister Brock, your son has… how to put it… tastes for criminals.” The principal explained.

“I’m sorry, what? You made me come here to call my son a criminal in front of me?” Carl growled, visibly feeling insulted.

_ Ugh. Here we go again. _The boy sighed. When was the last time he saw his father smiling? Was there ever a first time?

“Sorry, that’s not what I meant, Mister Brock. It’s just during arts classes, Dylan often writes or draws the supervillain Venom.”

His father looks shocked. As if he’s stopped breathing.

“He’s not a villain! He-” Dylan protested.

“Is that true?” Carl suddenly asked him. With a heavy weight of accusation in his voice.

“Wh-what is true?” Dylan stammered. Scared for what was probably upcoming.

“Is it what I’ve been just told is true??” His father barked.

“W-Well yeah. But I don’t see how-”

“How many times have I to tell you? Venom is _NOT_ a hero, Dylan! He’s a monster! He kills people! He _ eats _ people! Do you _ know _what does it mean?? He’s a freak who allied with a space demon! Should I also remind you what a demon is, Dylan??” Carl growled, almost screamed.

_ As if you needed to. _Dylan wanted to reply. Yet didn’t. Because he knew too well where would this lead.

“Let’s calm things, Mister Brock.” The principal tried to relieve the atmosphere. “I simply wanted to inquire if everything was ok at Dylan’s house. I mean, people, children who see that… Venom as a hero aren’t very common.”

“Thank God they’re not! And what are you implying exactly? That I’m not raising my own child well??” 

_ Oh no. Now he’s going to hit the principal too. _ Dylan feared.

“Far be it from me that awful idea, Mister Brock.” The principal apologized.

“I hope so! You will know, dear sir, I do everything in my power to teach my boy the difference between good and evil! That people, repulsive _ creatures _like that Venom have to be stopped and punished! Put to death!” Carl spat.

“That’s very good to hear, Mister Brock. Well, that will be all. Thank you for coming. Dylan, you can go. Make some research on that Venom, so you know he’s not a hero at all, will you?”

“He won’t need that.” Carl turned his back on the principal and grumbled. 

Venom was Dylan Brock’s hero.

No matter how loud and violent his father “taught” him,

no matter what the news and the other kids said,

Venom was Dylan’s hero.


	2. Chapter 2

“Hey, creep!” A boy called Dylan in the school yard at the break of ten.

He didn’t look up as he was busy carefully kneading a black clay figure.

_ I hope the tongue won’t fall off when I finish it. _ He thought and smiled at the picture of what it’d look like when done.

“Oi! I’m talking to you, retard!” The boy from before cursed, right next to him.

“What?” Dylan felt like replying.

“The others say you like the creepy villain Venom, is that-? Hey, what’s that?” The boy noticed the clay figure.

“Nothing of your business!” Dylan claimed.

“Give it.” The personal space invading boy ordered.

“No!” Dylan screamed, pressing the object against his heart.

“Give it, weirdo!” The boy punched him to the stone floor. “Is it…? Hey, pals, look what I’ve just discovered!” He shouted out loud.

_ Give it back! Leave me alone! _

“What did you just-? Ewww.” A girl cringed. “Is that Venom?”

“Well, all black with two white slits, what do you think?” The boy thief reminded her.

“Not coming from a toys shop, is it?” Another boy feared.

“Really? Shops that sell Venom toys? Don’t be stupid! It’s him, that creepy loner who was making it!” He pointed at Dylan, who was wobbling up in his legs.

“You kidding?”

“That’s yucky!”

“Dude, are you crazy?”

Enough. Dylan had enough of it!

“Shut up! Give it back! It’s mine!” He jumped on the boy whose hand was clutching on the soft clay.

The boy shoved him back and punched him again. Blood spurted out of his nose.

“Who cares, dumbass?  _ You  _ like a villain! And  _ that’s  _ some weird shit!”

“What is wrong with you, Dylan?” A girl accused him.

“The worst is he likes an enemy of Spider-man! And Spider-man is a  _ real  _ hero, moron!” The thief spat.

“Give it back…” Dylan tried again to catch his small Venom.

The boy replied with a ruthless knee in his stomach. Dylan clumsily staggered back, trying to catch his breath. And not to cry.

“Even the teachers and our parents agree! Look, even shops sell Spider-man  _ real  _ action figures.” The boy proudly pulled out a plastic red and blue toy from his pocket. “Cause Spidey is a  _ true  _ hero!” He almost shoved the toy in Dylan’s face. “Venom is just an alien psycho!” He ended up crushing the black clay figure, threw it on the ground and wiped it with his shoe.

“No… No!” Dylan wanted to yell but physically couldn’t.

“Did you actually wanted to have an action figure of your own?” Another boy mocked him.

“Of your disgusting hero?” A girl giggled.

They all dangerously got closer to him. Soon, Dylan was cornered against the wall.

_ Venom is not disgusting! And yeah, I wanted to make an action figure of my own! Since the toy makers are idiots! _

“Hey Spidey,” the boy asked his Spider-man figure. “Venom is my school. What should we do?” He placed the figure against his ear, as if expecting an answer.

“Smash him!”

“Kick him!”

“Beat him!”

“Lock him!”

“Kill him!”

The other children suggested.

“Alright! Let’s save the day, hero buddies!”

Dylan tried to protect himself from the rain of punches, kicks, blows against the concrete walls as much as he could. Which meant not very well.

_ One day, I’ll meet Venom! _

_ And he’ll crunch you all! _


	3. Chapter 3

“We should call your father, Dylan.” The teacher of the bullied child suggested.

As much as Dylan was bruised almost everywhere, his right eye black and swollen, his lip cut, a tooth gone, his leg still unable to stand straight without crumbling down at once, he knew all this was nothing, absolutely NOTHING, compared to what his father would do to him if he was told Dylan got in a fight because of his… likes for Venom. 

“NO! No, please don’t call him!” The child loudly begged despite the wounds on his chest. He pressed a hand on it with a groan.

“Dylan, I can’t possibly let you go home on your own in such a state. What if you collapse in the street?” She warned him.

_ A concrete pavement is way softer than my dad’s punches!  _ Dylan yearned to scream. He didn’t. If he did, he’d get through much more trouble. He didn’t want that. And he didn’t have a choice, did he?

“Alright. I’ll call him now.” She picked her phone. “I simply want you to be safe, Dylan.” She started to dial the number.

_ If you did, you wouldn’t call my father. _

“And please, Dylan, for the good of all, stop with your fantasies with that… Venom. Your comrades wouldn’t bother you if you didn’t like a villain.” She waited for Carl to pick up.

_ Venom is NOT a villain! And I’m sure the other blockheads would bully me either way. Especially if I’m not crazy about that stupid, shitty Spider like them! _

* * *

“Thank you for taking care of my son, Miss.” Carl Brock shook hands with the teacher without an ounce of sincerity in the gesture. “We’ll make sure it won’t happen again.”

“I’m sure you will, sir. So, see you tomorrow, Dylan. Get better.” She bid farewell, completely ignorant of what was waiting for Dylan, once  _ home _ .

* * *

“What did I tell you about Venom again, Dylan?” Carl crossed his arms, obviously not waiting for any answer and not even aware, or not caring, of the bruised face and limp leg of his son.

“You… you said he’s a monster.” Dylan muttered, sitting on a chair.

“Then why were you… creating a figure of it?” 

_ Because I liked the idea of it. _ Dylan was about to answer but remained mute.

“There must have been a good reason why the other kids attacked you?”

_ As there is a good reason why you hit me or make me starve? _

“Dylan, I am talking to you! Will you stop being rude and look at me?” Carl grew impatient. 

Dylan stared, glared at him.

_ I hate you. I hate the other kids. I hate my teachers. You’re all cruel and stupid! And still think  _ you _ ’re the good-doers! I hate you all! _

“Don’t you look at me like that, little punk!” Carl slapped him. Hard.

Although Dylan expected it, it still hurt and scared him. Like his father could kill him any moment. Still feeling scared and helpless even after nine years. The most relevant example was Dylan forced his hand to stay down and not to rub his cheek or cry. Because if he did, his father would slap him again and harder.

“Do you still worship that demonical creature?” Carl barked, not caring if the neighbors could hear him.

Dylan shrugged his shoulders.

_You already have your answer. Bigoted brute._

“Of course you do.” His father answered his own question before he kicked down the chair, making the child crash down in the process.

Dylan didn’t cry or even yelped. Nothing of that shit surprised him.

“You ungrateful, rotten brat! It’s like worshipping the Devil himself, are you even aware of that?” Carl growled at his son, without trying to help him to get back up. “I did my best to raise you properly after the death of your mother and this is how you thank me?”

“Thank you? For punching a 10 years old child who’s stuck with you?” Dylan retorted.

“Don’t talk back, little… shit!” Carl punched him again. “Your mother is dead because that Venom killed her! What do you say of that?” He almost sniggered.

“Bull...shit! Venom wouldn’t kill innocent people!” Dylan screamed.

“Are you implying your mother, your own mother, was a bad person?” Carl yelled.

“I’m implying you’re an old geezer who tells crap, takes his favorite fictional novel for reality and hate and abuse for holiness!” Dylan roared.

“Enough!” Carl slapped him to the ground. “Your classmates were way too kind with you! Go to your room! No dinner for you tonight! It’ll teach you to watch your tongue!”

Dylan wobbled up, holding on the table. He clumsily, and painfully, climbed up to his bedroom.

_ Watch my tongue, huh? _

_ I wish I had another kind of tongue. _ Dylan thought of his hero’s snake-like tongue.

And all the… things he could do with it. 


	4. Chapter 4

“Hey, weirdo! You skipped class yesterday! Did Spidey scare you?” An umpteenth stupid fan of Spiderman asked Dylan in the school hall. 

That fan had been part of the group who assaulted him two days ago.

“If your lame spider scared me, I wouldn’t be here.” Dylan mumbled.

“What was that?” The kid stepped closer.

_ Ugh! You stink like rotten onions!  _ Dylan pinched his nose.

“The other kids say your father beat the shit out of you when he learnt you liked a gross black alien! Did he?” The stinky kid grinned.

“They also say you brush your teeth only once a year!” Dylan expelled.

“The fuck did you say, you creep?” The kid gripped on his shirt and punched him.

Dylan shoved him back. Sharply. More sharply than he intended. The kid fell down. But it didn’t end here. The rascal started to cry very loud and brought the few teachers who were staying in the classroom during the break time.

“What happened?” One teacher demanded.

“Dylan! He attacked me!” The down kid screeched. “He hurt me, Miss!” He cried.

_ You stinky son of a-! _

“Dylan! What did you think?” Another teacher scolded Dylan.

“He attacked me first!” He protested. “He punched me!”

“You mustn’t encourage a fight Dylan!” The teacher near the sobbing brat told him. 

“If one of your classmates bothers you, you must tell an adult, not fight back!”

“Everytime I do it, you say you don’t have time! Or you say it’s  _ not serious _ !” Dylan screamed.

“Don’t scream, please!” She warned him.

“Or maybe… maybe you just tell yourself I  _ asked  _ for it. Like everyone else. Because I like a villain.” Dylan dreadfully realized.

“How dare you?” The teacher got cross.

“Apologize at once!” Her colleague ordered Dylan. “To Miss and to your comrade!”

“It’s always the victim’s fault, isn’t it?” The blond child began to cry. “I’m just one, the others are at least ten and I’m a disgusting weirdo who should like superheroes in tightass spandex but I like a villain!” He sobbed. “Because only a villain can like weird children like me, right? Venom is  _ NOT  _ a villain, and even if he was, I’d still like him over a bunch of hypocrites who think they’re good people while they love to shit on those who don’t think like them! Who don’t worship the same holy shitty heroes!” He yelled.

“That’s enough, Dylan! Go back to your class! No more breaks for you today!”

“Take that, creep!” The Spidey fan on the ground spat. 

_ I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!!! _

Really, all this shit because he dared not to share other kids’, other people’s point of view on the world!  _ Everyone _ punches, curses at, beats, harasses, bullies him all the time but  _ he  _ is the bad guy of the story? Because he doesn’t agree with their opinions they take for a sacred truth? Because he likes someone everyone hates? Do these stupidheads actually believe hate and bullying are holy and heroic? Are good? Do they actually think their God or Spiderman would approve what they do? Well, after all Dylan didn’t know God or Spidey. 

Maybe they  _ would  _ approve.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so you know, I've been working on that chapter weeks before Venom #18 was released.

Dylan finally got to go out of the class for lunch. He really didn’t want to go to a full of people cafeteria but the other option was to starve. His father never gave him money to eat outside. But why should he spend extra money for a kid he hated? Dylan sat on table remote enough from the other kids. He started to eat his potatoes.

“Hey!” A group of unhappy-looking kids came to bother him. “Is it you who hit my pal this morning?” A covered in stains boy asked.

“He also said you like the yucky villain Venom!” A girl accused Dylan.

He glared at them. He couldn’t even eat in peace.

“What if I did?” He replied.

“If you did, that means you have to pay for it!” The stained boy slammed his hand on the table.

“Sorry, my dad never gives me money.” Dylan sassed.

“No wonder why! You’re a bully who likes a villain!” The boy proudly retorted.

“They also say your father hates you so much he beats you everyday!” Another boy laughed.

“Is it why you didn’t come yesterday? Because poor little Venom fanboy was bruised?”

“Or maybe upset by the lesson Spidey gave him the other day!” A girl giggled.

“Why do you still come here anyway? No one likes you!”

“And villains don’t belong in a school!”

“No! They belong in a jail!”

“On the gallows!”

“Come on! What do you say of that, creep?” The boy chief shoved Dylan back.

“He doesn’t have any say! Villains aren’t allowed to talk!”

“They’re just allowed to be punched!”

Two, three, five, six, nine hands raised and hit Dylan. He didn’t scream. He didn’t cry. Just as his father taught him. He heard a few scared voices but no one coming to his rescue. 

_ Enough! Enough!  _ ** _ENOUGH!!! _ **

Dylan suddenly shrieked his lungs out.

**Are you going to bear that hate and that pain all your life??**

He head-butted one of the boys. Oddy enough, his forehead didn’t hurt.

**Are you going to let these fuckers ruin your life and walk over you forever??**

He punched hard one of the girls. Here too, his hand didn’t hurt or even sting.

**They don’t know you! They don’t know Venom yet they dare to charge us with all the crimes they can think of? FUCK THEM!**

He screeched loud. He didn’t know he could make so much noise. Feel so strong. His teeth started to feel… long… and… pointy. Like a mouth full of canines.

**They think they’re the good guys! They think they’re progressive as they love to cackle it yet they love to charge people they just don’t like the face of with imaginary crimes! **

**And they love to bash, beat and spit on people for the crime of not thinking like them! For not HATING like them! If being a hero means being a hateful and uptight bastard, then….**

Dylan roared so loud the cafeteria, the whole building trembled. People screamed and cried and run in fright. He stood up. He felt like gooey tendrils sticking out of his arms and his back. He didn’t know how they’d come here but he was strangely glad to see them.

“Miss! Miss! Dylan is going crazy!”

**“THEN I’LL GLADLY BE A VILLAIN!!!” ** Dylan screeched his new pointed teeth out. 

He stretched one of his greyish tendrils to the boy who was intimidating him a few minutes ago. The latter screamed for help.

**“So? How much do I owe you and you smelly mate?” ** Dylan grinned like a Cheshire cat.

The boy sobbed and whined.

Dylan threw him in the air and slammed him against the wall.

**“And keep the change!”** Dylan screamed to him.

Some adults started to frantically type on their phone.

**Never mind that. We’ll take care of them later. The other kids first. Easier with kids.**

Dylan lept on the table. He noticed the kids who bullied him today -and two days ago- running away.

**“Don’t leave so fast!”** He landed right in front of them. They screamed. “ **The lunch break is not over!** ” He made the creepiest smile ever and stretched all his tendrils, one for each child. He slammed them either on the floor, against the wall or the tables. Everyone shrieked and shouted in fear. “ **Now, aren’t you going to send me to jail??** ” Dylan showed a bright, scary smile. “ **Come on! I’m weider and creepier than before! Call the cops! Call a priest! Call your freaky Spiderman!!!** ” He screamed. 

“Dy-Dylan. Calm down now. Please.” The teacher from this morning asked, clearly shivering in fear.

“ **Well, aren’t you the brave miss? Don’t be scared. It’s ** ** _not that serious_ ** **!!!** ” Dylan showed her his sharp fangs and jumped on her. He missed but still landed on his feet.

“S-Stop! I’ll… I’ll talk with your classmates… with their parents!” She claimed.

**“Oh now I’m more dangerous and intimidating than forty brats and their noisy parents, you’ll ** ** _HELP_ ** **???** ” Dylan shrieked and threw another tendril to grab her.

She screeched.

Dylan smiled.

He brought her near his face. He attentively stared at her.

“ **Sweat. Tears. You’re scared. Frightened. You know it now? You know it now! THIS is how I’ve been feeling, how I’ve been living for NINE FUCKING YEARS!!!”** He roared and spat on her face. “ **And just like me, NO ONE WILL HELP OR SAVE YOU!!!** ”

“No! Please! Unhand me!” She begged.

**She’s scared. Scared food tastes better.**

What? Did Dylan really think that?

**Venom eats people. Bad people. ** ** _She _ ** **is bad. Why not doing like your hero?**

“ **Yes… why not?** ” He hissed before a long, elastic, sticky tongue curled out of his mouth. Where did that gigantic tongue come from? Dylan didn’t care. He just wanted, craved to taste a new kind of meal. Maybe it’ll taste better than the pesticides-filled disgusting grub of that stupid school! And it was free! Dylan smirked. “ **If you’re an idiotic, brainless God follower, you better make some prayers. Very. Quickly.” ** Dylan opened a wide, pitless, disproportionate mouth. Full of giant, long, pointed teeth

The teacher screamed until she was stopped by a heart-freezing, sharp, wet CRACK.

Dylan carelessly threw the rest of her body on the floor, like a common plastic bag.

**Now she really IS brainless! ** The voice in his head giggled.


	6. Chapter 6

Amongst the screams of fright, Dylan licked his blood-stained lips.

**Mmmh. Better than carbonized steak.**

Then a violent pain smashed his skull.

He fainted.

He woke up in a police station.

_ What? What am I doing here? _

He didn’t have time to answer that he saw his father talking, rather roaring at the officers. Then, striding towards him.

_ No! Go away! _

“The hell have you done again, little monster??” Carl growled before slapping Dylan.

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out, mister Brock.” One of the policemen replied, ignoring the case of child abuse in front of him. As if it was  _ not that serious _ . “It seems your son attacked his classmates and his teachers at school today. One of the teachers is, well, dead.”

“What?” For the first time of his life, Dylan’s father lost his voice.

To be fair, so did Dylan.

What did that mean?

He had…  _ killed  _ someone?

“After the...incident, we’ve found one of you son’s teachers beheaded. And we… still hadn’t found her head.”

“Is it… is it some kind of monstrous joke, officer? What are you accusing my son of, exactly?” Carl demanded. “Murder? Bloody murder? He’s nine, for heaven’s sake!” He slammed the desk.

For once, Dylan agreed with him.

“Please calm down, sir. No one’s accusing no one! I’m just telling you the facts!”

“But you have some opinions about these facts, haven’t you?” Carl implied. 

“As you said, he’s only nine. But... there have already been cases of murders committed by young children, sir.  _ Intentional  _ murders.”

“You-! You-!!” Carl almost suffocated out of rage.

“And I didn’t mention the dozens of children currently at the hospital after your son’s probable assault on them.”

“What?” Carl’s face turned pale.

“Your son will certainly get expelled from his school in the next days for that, sir. I’m sorry.”

“He’s a child! Where else than a goddamn school does he belong??” Carl screamed.

“In a correctional facility maybe!” The officer responded the same way. “To the very least!”

“My son will NOT got in a fucking prison!” Carl protested. “Not now, not ever!”

_ I’m sure prison is better than home. _ Dylan thought. 

“The parents of his classmates and the colleagues of his dead teacher want answers about all this mess! And compensation!”

“Then how about I give you and them money and we’ll all shut our mouths about this?” Carl suggested. 

He sounded like it wasn’t the first time he was bribing a police officer. He even already had taken out his wallet!

“Well, I will have to talk with the families about that first.” The officer picked up his phone.

A few hours later, Dylan was free to leave.

“Well? Not one thank you?” Carl glowered at him.

“Th-thank you.” Dylan stuttered.

“You better. We’ll have to talk about this at home. You know that?”

“Yes.” Dylan sighed.

He knew “talk” was a code for screams and punches and abuse.

He wasn’t wrong.

The door barely closed, Carl punched him in the face.

“You savage, beastly little punk!” 

**You are the beast, crazy old fart!**

“I’ve more than ENOUGH of you! What happened? Huh?? What did you do to your poor teacher? And your classmates?”

“I… I don’t know.” Dylan realized, rubbing his bruised cheek.

“You don’t-?? Don’t play with my nerves, now, you little scumbag! Answer me!” Carl barked and slapped him.

“But… that’s true! I don’t know!” Dylan cried. “I can’t remember what happened!”

“I’ll make you remember!” Carl kicked him in the loins.

Again Dylan didn’t scream. But he couldn’t refrain his tears anymore.

“Come on!” Carl ordered. “Answers!! What happened??” He kept on yelling while kicking his son as if he was a soccer ball.

_ Leave me alone! Leave me alone!! _

“Will you answer, you ungrateful, troublesome… parasite??” Carl angrily spat.

Dylan’s mind went blank.

_ Parasite? _

** _PARASITE??_ **

His blurred vision turned slightly grey.

“I’m not… a parasite…” He uttered despite the cruel kicks in his back.

“You are! And don’t TALK! BACK!” Carl kicked him so hard Dylan he flew a few meters away.

_ It hurts. It hurts! I don’t know what happened! I don’t know why this is happening to me! I don’t know why everyone hates me so much!  _ Dylan sobbed. 

“Why are children so ungrateful and so devilish these days??” Carl lift him up by his collar. “I’ve  _ tried  _ to raise you in our Lord and Savior’s just faith! I’ve  _ tried  _ to make you a good boy! And what did I get? A spoilt brat worshipping the most evil demon of this world!!”

“Venom… is not… a demon…” Dylan feebly murmured. But his father didn’t listen to him anymore.

“I should have known from the start you were a lost cause! That you were  _ rotten  _ to the core! When you began to adore that demonic creature Venom! Now you don’t content yourself idolizing him, you’re  _ ACTING  _ like him!!” Carl roared. “If we were back in Salem, you’d be rightfully put to death! Like the evil monster you are! You…  _ PARASITE _ !!” He sharply threw Dylan down.

Again, no screams.

“You take advantage of my hospitality! Of my food! Of  _ MY  _ work! Of my money! Do you even how much green I had to give to the parents of your classmates as their goddamn compensation?? You brings me  _ ONLY  _ trouble and problems! You bring trouble and problems to  _ EVERYONE _ ! You’ve fucking  _ KILLED  _ your own teacher! And  _ ASSAULTED  _ the other children! I don’t know how but I  _ KNOW  _ you did! And you DARE claiming you don’t remember? How are you anything else than a damn  _ PARASITE _ ??” 

**Not a monster.**

**NOT A ** ** _PARASITE_ ** **!!!**

The grey vision came back. Also Dylan’s teeth grew suddenly, turning long and sharp. His back and his face didn’t hurt anymore. As if his bruises had magically healed. And, just like that, he stood up. Well, not exactly. He was floating. Levitating. The grey tendrils. They were back. They were helping Dylan to stand.

Carl gasped and stepped back.

“ **Don’t! EVER! Call me a PARASITE… AGAIN!!!** ” Dylan shrieked his father’s ears off. 

Before he jumped on the latter.

He could have sworn his father just had muttered something like “No, no you too”. 

**Oh who cares? Let’s slash his face off! That way, HE’ll be a monster too!!**

Dylan’s hands turned into long, sharp, scissors-like claws. Giant scissors. 

“B-back off! Demon!” Carl begged more than ordered.

“ **Oh, I thought the proper protocol to chase demons away was holy water, a crucifix or some bigoted, superstitious shit like that!** ” Dylan mocked him with big, wide cloudy grey eyes and a large, scary FNAF-like grin full of pointed fangs.

“Don’t… come any closer!” Carl warned.

**“Or what? You’ll make me starve? Punch my teeth out? Kick me to the moon??** ” Dylan’s thousands tendrils looked like flaming up. He rose his giant claw over his head.

“No!”

“ **YES!!”** Dylan’s creepy grin grew larger, until reaching both his ears, before he instantly slashed open his father’s face.

Who screamed in pain. 

To Dylan’s strange delight.

He wanted, he  _ craved  _ doing it again!

He rose his other hand and scratched that ugly face again. And again. And again.

**Not enough!**

**It’s still not enough!**

**KILL HIM!**


End file.
